


pretty isn't everything (you punk ass)

by anakinno



Series: Enjoying AoS Season 7 with as Much Angst as Possible [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 1950s, 7x03, Denial of Feelings, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hair, Light Angst, Makeup, Season/Series 07, Short One Shot, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Teasing, badass girls being badasses, because did you really think i could write a fic with no angst, girl talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinno/pseuds/anakinno
Summary: "Oh?" Jemma says, far too innocently to be believable, as she finishes the last curl and steps back. "I thought you and Deke had something...special."If looks could kill, Daisy's glare would put Simmons six feet under without breaking a goddamn sweat.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez, Deke Shaw/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, if you squint
Series: Enjoying AoS Season 7 with as Much Angst as Possible [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773439
Comments: 25
Kudos: 60
Collections: fill the daisy/deke tag with actual content 2020





	pretty isn't everything (you punk ass)

**Author's Note:**

> here's something a little lighter this week. because there's no way that jemma, daisy, and yo-yo just casually _styled their goddamn hair_ into those 50s hairstyles without some help. however, there's not really any dekedaisy in here—sorry to disappoint—except for a few teasing remarks.
> 
> this small fic is kind of inspired by Sanctuaria—go check out their season 7 spec fic series if you haven't read it already! it's fantastic. here's the fitz mention that you wanted ahaha.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> _chapter title from "West Coast" by the Neighbourhood._

In retrospect, Daisy decides, shifting in her seat, maybe it wasn't the _best_ idea to let Jemma manhandle them all into what amounts to a _braiding train._

"Hold still." Simmons' voice is grim as she curls Daisy's hair quickly and efficiently. Daisy tries not to hate it—she's going to get enough slack from these 1950s misogynists for wearing pants and _daring_ to be half-Chinese, and she doesn't want to give them another reason to stare. Even so, she's always detested having her hair done, and this is no exception.

"Are you done yet?" Daisy demands. She resists the urge to turn back and glare at Jemma, hairstyle be damned.

"Just a few more."

Yo-Yo snorts. "You've been saying that for the last five minutes," she points out. She's artfully arranging Jemma's hair in a series of braids that she's probably planning on wrapping into coils on the sides of her head. _Yo-Yo's_ not bitching at Jemma to stay still still, Daisy thinks in irritation. Her hands fly over Jemma's hair and style it with careful, precise movements. "If you take any longer, the guys are going to wonder what we're up to."

"Let them." Simmons' voice is hard, and Daisy wonders, not for the first time, just how _long_ Jemma has been away. The last few years—Maveth, the Framework, the Lighthouse, and now the Chronicoms—had stripped all of Simmons' childhood innocence and charm away, but this... this Simmons seems almost robotic in nature. Now, she's refined her steely gaze to perfection.

Daisy thinks maybe Fitz's disappearance has something to do with that.

"Jemma?" She ventures, almost hesitantly, giving voice to the thought she hadn't dared to dwell on. Behind her, Simmons stiffens. "Have you—have you heard from Fitz?"

"I can't know where he is," Jemma says immediately. She tugs on the next curl a little too hard, making Daisy yelp. "Only that he's okay. He... he _has_ to be."

And for a moment, Daisy can hear just how _young_ Simmons is. It reminds her of the young, bright-eyed girl who'd first joined the team on the bus—not cut out for field work.

"He can't send you a message or anything?" she presses. "Not even to say hi?"

"It's safer this way." Jemma sounds like she's trying to convince herself, almost. "We have to wait... wait until it's time."

And God, if that isn't the most cryptic and most frustrating thing she's ever heard.

"But you will see him again," Yo-Yo asks, voice gentle. "Won't you?"

Daisy can hear the way that Simmons' expression shutters in the way that she says, "We'll see." It's clearly meant to be the end of the conversation regarding Fitz.

Still, Daisy could press the topic further, but she decides to let it go for the time being. "Fuck," she curses instead as Jemma brings the curling iron dangerously close to her neck. She might have a few burns—Simmons' abilities with heat tools are a little too mechanical to be used on humans. "Are you trying to decapitate me?"

She can hear the smirk in Yo-Yo's voice as the other woman says, "I think that would definitely disrupt the timeline. Not that it's not tempting."

Daisy flips her off without looking. 

"I am _not,_ " Jemma says, sounding miffed, "trying to decapitate you. We simply want you looking presentable, and you _refuse_ to let us put your hair up—"

"Mack already made me take out the purple!" Daisy complains. 

"—so this is the only option." Jemma tugs on her shoulders to move her into another position. "Besides, I thought you'd want to look nice."

That comment is loaded with... _something,_ Daisy decides, and she really, _really_ doesn't want to know what it is. "I look nice every goddamn day," she says defensively. "There's no point in dressing up like this. Even if it's the 1950s."

"Deke doesn't seem to think so."

Daisy almost chokes on her spit. From behind them, Yo-Yo bursts into surprised laughter, which is music to Daisy's soul, even if she's the butt of the joke. Daisy would be the butt of a hundred jokes if it meant Yo-Yo would laugh like this every damn day.

"Who said anything about _Deke?"_ Daisy demands once she's recovered from her spluttering.

"You did," Yo-Yo says, almost sing-song. She finishes Jemma's updo and dusts her hands off on her clothes before coming to the front of the line to grin at Daisy. She settles herself into one of the chairs facing the other two women, still smiling, and tosses her already-curled hair back over her shoulder.

"Did not."

"Did too," she counters. "You don't shut up about him. It's sickening."

"What do you—I don't shut up about how much he _annoys me,"_ Daisy corrects, tensing. She doesn't her female friends on her case about this, too. "Can you believe the guy? He left _lemons_ in my bunk for weeks, as some sort of weird-ass prank—"

Yo-Yo and Jemma exchange a pointed glancethat Daisy does not like the look of.

"—and he ran off and tried to patent SHIELD technology, and, and..." She trails off, staring at the floor. "He's nothing to me," Daisy finishes, feeling the heavy weight of the words on her tongue.

"Oh?" Jemma says, far too innocently to be believable, as she finishes the last curl and steps back. "I thought you and Deke had something... _special."_

If looks could kill, Daisy's glare would put Simmons six feet under without breaking a goddamn sweat. "There is _nothing,_ " she repeats, "going on between me and Deke."

"Mm-hm." Yo-Yo's mouth curls up into a little smirk that Daisy really wants to punch off her face. "Keep telling yourself that, Daisy."

"What about you and Mack, huh?" she counters. She knows it's an awful thing for her to say, but she can't help it; she's always been one to lash out at others when she's feeling hurt. "How's that going?"

Yo-Yo's expression flickers with pain, but she meets Daisy's gaze head-on. "Could be fucking better," she mutters.

Daisy is wracked with a sudden wave of guilt. She opens her mouth to say something—maybe to apologize, maybe to make a light remark—but before she can get anything out, the door slides open and the echoes of several voices fill the room.

"They're not finished yet?" demands Deke from down the hallway. "It's only hair. How long could it possibly take?"

"Just wait," comes Coulson's voice, gentle. "Give them another few minutes. It's a lot to deal with."

"It's _hair!"_

May, who's standing in the doorway, looks amused—well, as amused as May can possibly look. Her face is still almost blank. "It looks like you guys are done," she tells the three women—she'd abruptly refused to have her hair styled, and is instead wearing her usual tac-vest and SHIELD uniform. "If you don't come and rescue me from your boyfriend, Daisy, I might be forced to commit a homicide."

"He's _not_ my—"

"Come on," Yo-Yo says, hiding her sudden grin in a not-so-subtle way. "Let's go."

Daisy glowers at May, who just looks back at her, expressionless. "Fine," she says, choosing not to make a hurtful comment about Coulson. Never let it be said that Daisy Johnson does not take the high road, at least every so often. "Fine. Let's go."

She storms out of the room, leaving the other three women to stare at her retreating back. Yo-Yo says something to May and Jemma as Daisy leaves to go find the guys, and Daisy can distinctly hear something about _lemons._

When she reaches the rest of the team, thoughts of Deke are put permanently out of her mind.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you thought about this fic, or even 7x03, in the comments or on [tumblr](https://anakinnope.tumblr.com/)!! i'll happily scream with you :D
> 
> also i don't claim to know anything about 1950s style,, so i pulled most of this out of my ass :))

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Every Great Love Story (starts with some really pretty hair)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24671983) by [Sanctuaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctuaria/pseuds/Sanctuaria)




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